


Classroom Instruction

by penguingal, Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, comment porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-03
Updated: 2005-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don makes a thoughtless comment and when he finds Charlie to apologize he ends up admitting his true feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Classroom Instruction

People always said that Charlie was the one without tact. The one who spoke without thinking. Those people had never been hurt by a casual, careless comment from his brother. Words that cut deep and made him bleed and all the while he wore that stupid smile because Don was his brother and shouldn't -- couldn't ever be anything more.   
  
He wasn't called to the garage this time. The hurt wasn't so bad that he needed P vs NP to blunt the pain. But still he retreated into math, into the safety of his numbers.   
  
CalSci was safer than home these days. Don wouldn't show up unexpectedly unless he wanted something specific from Charlie. So it was the classroom whiteboards that captured his focus now.   
  
It was out of his mouth before he'd realized it. There was just a flicker of pain around Charlie's eyes that you'd have to have seen before to notice, but Don had a feeling he knew what it meant. Charlie would of course take his thoughtless comment to mean that Don didn't really want him around his work, that Charlie was a burden on him. But that was because despite all his genius, Charlie still wasn't a mind reader. Don, for one, was grateful for that. What he'd said though was still true; he just couldn't knowingly put someone, anyone, in harm's way because of what he did. That went double for Charlie, and as much as he wanted, and in as many ways as he wanted, to let his brother in, he just couldn't do it.   
  
When the dishes were done and Charlie still hadn't come back in the house, Don went looking for him. The lights in the garage were off and Charlie's bike was gone. He said a quick goodnight to his father and headed to CalSci. He walked slowly through the campus to Charlie's office, knowing this was probably a bad idea. Leaning on the doorframe, he watched Charlie work.  
  
Charlie let himself get lost in the numbers, the smell of the dry erase markers and the beauty and elegance of his equations. It was safe there. Numbers, unlike people, couldn't be careless, couldn't cause him pain.   
  
It took him a while to become aware of another person in the room. Not Larry or Amita, even if they hadn't interrupted him, they'd have moved closer to study his work.   
  
Could be a student not confident enough to interrupt or get too close. But more likely, he glanced back, briefly. Yeah. Don. He looked back to his board, trying to pick up his train of thought. "Did you need something?" he asked, continuing with the next section of his equation. He'd been standing there a long time to need some kind of immediate help on a case, but Charlie wasn't going to admit anything was wrong.  
  
Don shrugged and moved into the room, perching on the edge of the table closest to Charlie. "Just to talk..."   
  
He looked at the line of Charlie's back as he worked and he couldn't help the way his eyes followed it to the curve of his ass. _God, I'm disgusting_ , Don thought to himself. Long seconds passed in silence as Charlie scribbled and Don watched. Sighing, Don stood. "But, I guess this isn't such a good time. You look busy. Try to remember to sleep..." He wasn't sure what he'd expected. Don had hurt him and Charlie was hiding. Uncertainly, he took a few steps toward the door before mentally kicking himself. He didn't know what his hang up was about apologies, even when he knew he was wrong.   
  
"I'm sorry... about what I said."   
  
Charlie's hand faltered. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard Don truly apologize of his own volition. He capped his pen, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room. He turned around to face to Don. "What--what did you want to talk about?"   
  
"I don't know..." Don shrugged, looking at his shoes briefly. He wandered back over to where Charlie was standing. "Seems like you and I never just... talk. At least about things that don't involve criminals or the government. Something always manages to come up at the worst time." Half a smile crept across his face.   
  
"Mostly, I thought... I thought that I should explain. What I said back at the house, it's true. It scares the crap out of me that because I do what I do that you or Dad could be a target, and if I could, I'd send you both someplace where no one could ever reach you. And this case..." Don slumped on the table "... this case has just brought all that to the surface. It doesn't mean that I don't value you or your help."   
  
Don looked up to see his brother watching him cautiously. "I do, Charlie. You've become... invaluable to me. So, I need you to understand that sometimes, fear gets in the way and things come out wrong." Reaching out he placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder, the skin warm under his hands. "I need you, buddy. Okay?"   
  
Charlie shivered, Don's hand branding iron hot even through his shirt. He'd never heard Don put it quite so bluntly before -- at least, not when he wasn't angry. "It's not -- it's not that I thought you don't value you my work, it's --" He stopped, sighed. He didn't really know how to explain. How could he, when he wasn't entirely sure he understood himself?   
  
"It just sounded like you cared more about this hypothetical woman than me and I know that's not how you meant it to sound but it did." He looked down, unable to meet Don's gaze.   
  
Don looked at the top of Charlie's head, tracing each curl. There were so many ways he wanted to respond to that -- _I love you, I need you, I want you, stay with me, when I was talking about her what I really meant to say was you_ \-- but he knew he couldn't. He tightened his grip on Charlie's neck slightly, coaxing his eyes up until they met his.   
  
"Charlie, I care about you more than you'll ever know. There is no one, there could never be anyone, I care about as much. Okay?" Don's voice was soft, soothing.   
  
Charlie's dark eyes widened, touched by the sincerity in Don's voice. If he only knew.   
  
"Probably shouldn't let your prosecutor girlfriend hear that," he said with a lightness he didn't feel. He should be happy Don was showing an interest in someone, right? He should be thrilled that Don could find happiness.   
  
"I can't tell you how much I wish you'd drop that," Don smiled, his hand falling from Charlie's shoulder. "Any interest I have in her is purely professional, okay? She's nice enough but..." _but she's not you_ "... but she's just not my type."   
  
The last thing that Don needed was for him to play matchmaker. It was hard enough knowing that he could never have what he wanted, but having _Charlie_ try and point him elsewhere, it was just too much.   
  
"So... how are things with Amita going?" Don raised his eyebrows pointedly. "Dad said she was over the house the other night..."   
  
He tried not to flinch at the loss of contact when Don withdrew his hand. "Oh no," he said, wagging his finger. "We're not talking about me, we're talking about you. So what _is_ your type, Don?"   
  
Don tilted his head, looking at Charlie closely. He'd just been given an opening to say all the things he'd never dared and he actually considered it for a moment. He never wanted to lie to Charlie...   
  
"I - I don't know. Smart, funny, athletic, maybe a little goofy and distracted, passionate, articulate, low maintenance..." _dark skin, with a tangle of unruly dark curls, big brown eyes, mathematical genius_ Don smiled, a picture of Charlie and him together flashing through his mind. He blushed a little, glancing down at his shoes. "Know anyone like that?" His voice had dropped unexpectedly and a warning bell sounded in the back of his mind at his suggestive tone.   
  
"Maybe," Charlie said, moving a little closer. Was that a trick of the light or was Don actually _blushing_? "Low maintenance, huh?" He grinned and tried to ignore how his voice had just dropped a little. "What about physically? Blonde, brunette, red head?"   
  
Crossing his arms across his chest, Don leaned back on the table so he could look at Charlie. He was standing close enough that Don could smell the heady mix of his soap, dry erase markers, and chalk. This was dangerous territory he was entering now. His blood raced through his veins and he tried to ignore it.   
  
"Dark hair... with curls," Don replied, pleased how he managed to keep his voice from shaking.   
  
He mimicked Don's pose, watching his brother closely. Dark hair and curls . . . Amita? Was that what he was trying to tell him?   
  
He suddenly realized his brother had yet to use a pronoun. This person he was describing was, at least at the moment, asexual. He'd _assumed_ Don was talking about a woman, certainly he'd dated women in the past but . . . no pronouns. "Okay, dark hair with curls, what else?"   
  
Don narrowed his eyes, wondering just how far he could take this before Charlie figured it out. He felt like a rock climber boldly testing the soil under him to find the edge of the cliff. What would happen when he found it? So far he'd managed to keep everything vaguely specific. Though this might lead to doom and disaster, Don inched forward with his eyes wide open.   
  
He shrugged. "Slim, dark skinned, big brown eyes... the physical doesn't matter as much as what's up here though..." Don tapped his temple.   
  
"No, of course not," Charlie murmured. "But what about what's in here?" he asked, reaching out to cover Don's heart with his hand. He could feel the steady beat under his palm and he found it oddly reassuring.   
  
He glanced at the hand over his heart, the warmth penetrating his shirt. Charlie was close to figuring it out, Don could tell. He should back off now; he'd taken this as far as he could go without ruining both their lives. Fear, of losing what little he had with Charlie, of making Charlie's position in his life real, niggled at him. But the pressure of Charlie's hand was comforting.   
  
"A good heart... kind, compassionate, empathic, caring, maybe a little too much sometimes... stubborn." Don smirked, placing his own hand over Charlie's.   
  
Charlie's breath hitched at the combination of Don's touch and his smirk. Was it possible Don wasn't talking about Amita at all? He'd never been any good at reading people, especially in these types of situations.   
  
"Have to be, to keep up with you. The Eppes' stubborn streak is nearly legendary."   
  
Don bit his lip, still smiling. "Indeed it is..." He trailed off, looking at his hand over Charlie's, trying not to think about how right it felt there and failing. The small hitch in Charlie's breathing had registered in the back of Don's mind. Could it be...? Mentally, Don shook himself. Even if he did harbor the same inclinations, did it really matter?   
  
_Yes, it does_ , some part of Don's brain that he didn't recognize piped up. _Of course it does._   
  
Not letting go of Charlie's hand, he raised his eyes to his brother's face. "What about you, Charlie? Do you have a type?" That purr was back, but Don was too far along to care now.   
  
Charlie's mouth went dry and he swallowed hard. He didn't try to direct the conversation back in Don's direction it wouldn't be -- fair.   
  
"I suppose so," he said slowly. "I'd want someone who was intelligent. Someone who is strong, mentally and emotionally and physically. Someone who makes me feel safe," he said softly. He glanced at Don and then away again. "Someone capable of great tenderness and mercy. Someone who can laugh, who can put up with my world and my rambling and yeah, someone as stubborn as I am."   
  
He watched Charlie carefully as he spoke, and that brief glance at him was all he needed. The pieces clicked into place and suddenly Don's heart was beating incredibly fast. The one thing, the one person he'd always wanted most was standing right in front of him admitting, in his way, that he wanted him, too. Moving his hand from Charlie's, he ran it up his arm to the back of his neck. Don stood, searching Charlie's face for just a moment before bending his mouth to his and pressing their lips together.   
  
He still didn't believe he was reading the signals right, not until Don's lips were on his. He froze, shocked that Don-- _Don_ \--could possibly feel the same way. Shocked that even if he did, he was actually acting on it. It was only when he felt Don stiffen, preparing to draw away that he was able to stop his mind from going in circles and realize he was about to lose what was probably his one chance for this. He wrapped his arms around Don to stop him from pulling away and concentrated on kissing Don back.   
  
When Charlie didn't kiss him back right away, panic gripped him. Had he gotten this completely wrong? Charlie's lips were tight on his and he could feel the tension in his body. Cursing silently, Don started to pull away but then Charlie's arms were around him, drawing him back in. A combination of relief and fresh lust slammed into his system and Don claimed the mouth under his a little more firmly. His tongue traced Charlie's bottom lip, chastely requesting entrance.   
  
Charlie parted his lips, dueling gently with Don's tongue before following it back into his brother's mouth. He wanted to taste and explore, let himself get lost in sensation. The whole evening was surreal.   
  
He nibbled on Don's bottom lip as they parted and he drew in a shaky breath. "Don. You just french kissed me in my classroom."   
  
"Yeah," Don breathed a shaky breath of his own. "I know. That's not odd at all, is it?"   
  
He felt giddy, buoyant, and maybe slightly drunk, and he giggled. He actually giggled before biting his lip and trying to rein his swirling thoughts in. Charlie was looking at him worriedly, and Don put his hands around his waist.   
  
"You know something, though? You kissed me back."  
  
"Yeah, yeah I did," Charlie agreed.   
  
He cocked his head to the side, studying Don critically as he tried to remember how much alcohol Don had consumed that evening. Because Don had kissed him and then Don had actually _giggled_ and Don didn't randomly go around kissing him or giggling. "Are you okay?"   
  
Don took a deep breath. Then he took another one, trying to clear the euphoria from his system. The last thing he wanted was for Charlie to think that this was a whim or the result of some alcohol-clouded inhibition.   
  
"I'm fine, Charlie," he said, relieved that his voice had returned to normal, even though he could still hear the sultry tones lurking at the edges. "I'm... somewhat better than fine, actually. I -" Don shook his head, moving one hand up to caress Charlie's face. "God, I've imagined this so many different ways..." He paused, letting a few beats pass as he imprinted the moment on his mind.   
  
"Are _you_ okay?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm fi-- wait a second, back up. Did you just say you've been imagining this?" And with different variations, too. He thought he'd been the only one to spend his nights imagining different scenes, different variables that changed the scenario in subtle and not so subtle ways.  
  
Don bit his lip, nodded. Backing up, he leaned against the table again, letting his hand trail down Charlie's arm again to grab his hand. He didn't want to let go, not completely, but being in such close proximity was too tempting. He didn't want to rush things. It felt like their lives were balanced on a precipice. One wrong move from him and he could send them both crashing into oblivion.   
  
"I - I've..." _Dammit_ , Don swore at himself. He finally had permission to say it and he still struggled. The image of Mrs. Trelane with four shotgun holes in her swam to the surface and he shoved it back down. "I've wanted you for... a long time, Charlie. I tried to deny it, and then I tried to avoid it, until finally I couldn't do that any more and I just gave in to it. Never once did I think... I - I don't know how far we can go together... because that fear, of something happening to you, that's not going away. In fact, it'll probably just increase now that I know... but I - I love you, Charlie. And I'll take whatever I can get."   
  
Charlie looked at him, shocked. He had no idea Don wanted him at all, much less for a long time. And Don wasn't sure how intimate they could be not because they were brothers but because he was worried about Charlie's safety. Definitely surreal.   
  
He took a moment to try and gather his thoughts together. "I love you too, Don," he said softly. "As for my safety... look, Don, welcome to the club. You think I don't worry about you every time you go out there? You think I don't worry that one of these days I'll help you just enough to get you in the right place to be killed? But I've learned to live with it, and realize that it's not my decision to make anyway." He reached out and caressed Don's face.   
  
"So how long is a long time?" he asked softly.   
  
Don nuzzled into the touch briefly, knowing Charlie was right. It was just part of their reality. Didn't mean it scared him any less.   
  
"God," he sighed. "I'm not even exactly sure. Sometimes it seems like this odd pressure around my heart when I look at you has always been there. Definitely before Albuquerque. It's probably part of why I left, even if I didn't know it then. Look, I spent a lot of time being utterly horrified about this. And sometimes, when I catch myself leering at you, I still think I'm disgusting. I know this is wrong. I know I shouldn't feel this way but..." He shook his head, tossing up his other hand in defeat.   
  
Charlie took a cautious step forward. Don seemed almost -- skittish. "Hey," he said quietly, tilting Don's chin up with his hand, forcing Don to meet his gaze. "I have never in my life known you to _leer_ at me."   
  
A short laugh burst from him. "I got really good at hiding it. Helps that you spend a lot of time with your back to me at a board," Don winked. Placing his free hand on Charlie's hip, he drew him another half-inch closer. His thumb slid under the hem of Charlie's t-shirt to caress the skin just above the waistband of his jeans. "You couldn't see the way I looked at you when I first came in..."   
  
"'course not, I was too busy ignoring you," Charlie said lightly. He closed his eyes, shivering at Don's touch. "Watched you too, you know. Especially when you wear those sinfully tight jeans."   
  
"So much for me being the observant one," Don smirked, his voice dropping to a purr again. This time he let it, without giving it a second thought. "I never knew it." His fingers continued caressing Charlie's skin and he extracted them from his hand to trail through the hairs on his forearm.   
  
Charlie shivered and licked his lips. "We only see what we want to see, what we expect to see. Our mind fills in the rest." He was leaning forward slightly, into his touches, and Don could practically feel the longing and want in the air between them.   
  
"Charlie..." Don whispered, "should we maybe move this somewhere more appropriate?"   
  
He leaned forward and kissed Don once, almost chastely. "I vote for your place."   
  
Before Charlie could back up too far, Don grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce kiss, wanting to feel the way he responded to his touch. His tongue slid easily inside the wet heat of Charlie's mouth, filled with promise. He broke the kiss slowly, extracting himself bit by bit until he could look Charlie in the eyes again.   
  
"My thoughts exactly." Don stood, helping Charlie gather his few things before they headed out of the room. Stopping just shy of the threshold, he turned and put a hand on Charlie's bicep. "Just... please, promise me, if it's too much, if you need to stop..." It'd be hard, he'd wanted this for so long, but Don loved Charlie too much to push him into anything.   
  
Charlie ducked his head and nodded. "You too, okay? We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."   
  
The car ride to Don's apartment was quiet. Charlie toyed with the idea of putting his hand on Don's knee and inching it up slowly but he was too nervous to actually try it. And then they were there.   
  
He could feel Charlie quivering next to him as they walked up the path to his building. Don put an arm around his shoulders to steady him as he led the way up the stairs and to his door. Everything seemed to be moving very slowly, which was fine by him. There would be plenty of fire and too quick passion soon enough. For now, he wanted to be able to remember everything up to that moment. Because whether this was the first of many nights like this or a singular occurrence, nothing could ever be exactly like it.   
  
Don pulled the door shut behind him and looked his brother over a moment before reaching out and pulling him into a deep kiss. He let his hands wander over Charlie's thin frame, exploring angles and textures he never dreamed of before as he leaned on the door for support.  
  
Charlie shivered under Don's touch, a soft moan escaping despite his best effort to hold it back. He hesitantly brought his hands up to explore Don's body. He'd never been given this tacit permission to touch before. His curious fingers ghosted over the planes of Don's chest, one hand reaching up to stroke a broad shoulder.   
  
A low encouraging moan rumbled from Don's chest as elation threatened to swamp him again. He had Charlie's hands on him, Charlie's _lips_ on him, and as far as he was concerned he could die then and there as a happy man. Using the door as leverage, Don managed to turn so he was backing them across his place to the bedroom, carefully steering them around outcropping furniture.   
  
"It's okay, Charlie," Don murmured as he went, bending his mouth to taste the skin at his brother's throat. "I want you. You don't have to hold back."  
  
Charlie didn't answer, just claimed Don's lips in a kiss. He'd had fumbling explorations before, but nothing to prepare him for this. This was _Don_ , Don who he'd wanted for as long as he could remember.   
  
He kissed Don's throat, nibbling his way up to bite gently on his brother's earlobe.   
  
Don moaned freely at the feel of Charlie's teeth on his ear. Once they'd crossed into the bedroom, he forced himself to back off and take a deep breath otherwise he might simply abandon himself to the frenzy welling up inside him and tear Charlie's clothes off. Instead, he took a long look at his brother, knowing they were about to cross a line that they most definitely couldn't uncross. He could only hope that coming together like this wouldn't break them down the line.   
  
Stepping forward, he ran his hands under Charlie's shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside. He let his hands run through the hair on his chest as he kissed him again deeply. "Still okay?" he asked, looking Charlie in the eyes.   
  
Charlie shivered again at Don's touch and brought a hand up to caress his cheek. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely. "Still okay."   
  
He kissed Don again and slowly moved his hands to unbutton Don's shirt, kissing each centimeter of exposed flesh until he was thwarted by Don's undershirt.   
  
Don smirked at the small sound of frustration Charlie made and he stepped back, letting Charlie help him remove it before offering his skin to his brother's mouth. Though he was unbearably hard under his jeans, he wanted Charlie to take his time, to explore to his heart's content. Shifting so Charlie wouldn't have to stop, he managed to get his hands on the waistband of his jeans, deftly undoing his belt and popping the button of his fly open. Sensation shot along his spine and he panted, trying not to squirm too much in Charlie's arms.   
  
"Tell me what you want, Charlie," Don gasped. "Tell me what you've dreamed about."   
  
Charlie feasted on Don's newly exposed skin, hands moving restlessly to caress the skin his mouth couldn't reach. He heard Don undoing his jeans but he still kept his hands above the waistline for now.   
  
He paused and looked up, met Don's coffee brown eyes. "You," he said softly. "You're all I've ever wanted. Anything you might give me."   
  
"Oh, fuck," Don breathed, melting under Charlie's gaze. His hands continued to caress the skin in front of him. "I've pictured you so many different ways, Charlie. I've thought about ambushing you in the elevator and taking you hard and fast against the wall. I've thought about you between my legs sucking me off with that sinful mouth of yours. About fucking you tender and slow until you're left wrung out and begging under me. But my favorite fantasy..." he backed up a couple paces and dug for something in his top dresser drawer, showing it to Charlie shyly "... requires more than implied permission."   
  
In his hands he held a pair of padded handcuffs.   
  
Charlie swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He walked over to Don, pulling him in for another deep kiss. "On you or me?" he whispered, nibbling on his ear.   
  
All the air seemed to go out of Don's lungs all at once. He'd expected Charlie to be horrified with him, seeing as this was definitely the most perverse part of the whole thing.   
  
Don had to work to clear his throat. "On you... wanna see you bound to my bed, open and ready, just for me." He ran the toy teasingly across Charlie's skin.   
  
Charlie nodded, kissing Don's neck again, his eyelids, his lips. He backed up toward the bed and climbed on, lying back against the pillows with his arms stretched above him. He hoped he looked more confident than he actually felt.   
  
Don just stared. Even though he was the one holding the cuffs, he suddenly got the sense that he wasn't in control here at all. Smiling, he stalked to the bed, kissing his shoulders as he stretched across Charlie. He pushed one end of the cuffs open, the sound loud in the hushed room, and pressed it to one of Charlie's wrists, but didn't click it closed yet. "You have a safe word, Charlie?"   
  
Safe word. Right. He knew about that. Kind of. He studied Don's face and said the first word that came into his head. "Penguin."   
  
He looked at Charlie quizzically. "Penguin, really? That's the word you want to use if you need me to stop?" The cuff still hovered half-on and half-off Charlie's wrist.   
  
"Sure, why not? It's the first thing that came into my head and you have to admit, I'm unlikely to be shouting 'penguin' in the throes of passion."   
  
Don considered a moment. "Okay, you do have a point. Penguin it is then." And with that, he closed one cuff around Charlie's wrist, the chain clanking as he threaded it through the headboard, and thumbed open the other cuff. He kissed this wrist once before closing the other end around it. Moving downward, he relieved Charlie of his shoes and socks, followed directly by his jeans and boxers, all the while granting him small teasing touches to his body. When he was naked at last, Don climbed off the bed, stepped back a few paces and just took the whole thing in.   
  
Charlie bit his bottom lip, spreading his legs just a little. He felt vulnerable, exposed, but completely safe. He let his gaze wander over Don's body. Shirtless, jeans opened but still on, his expression rapt. Charlie licked his lips in nervous anticipation.   
  
He circled the bed, practically prowling around the room, and opened his nightstand drawer so he could place lubricant and a condom in easy reach. Charlie's eyes followed him attentively. He wasn't struggling or begging. Yet. He was just waiting. Slowly, Don let his jeans slide down his hips and he stepped out of them. His boxers followed.   
  
Stroking himself lightly as he approached the bed, Don considered his tactics a moment before covering Charlie with his body. Their cocks slid across each other and Don gasped, his head falling between his shoulder blades for just a moment.   
  
Starting at his neck, Don revisited all the spots he'd found earlier, the ones that made Charlie gasp and his eyes roll back into his head in pleasure. The delicate skin right behind his ear, the juncture of his neck and shoulder, the skin right over his collar bone... Don bathed all of it with his tongue, leaving nothing neglected except Charlie's cock.   
  
Charlie gasped and arched, Don's touches winning moans and even the occasional whimper. He tugged against his bonds, desperate to touch Don, to caress and taste.   
  
"Don, please, please," he whispered. The sensations were incredible, the pleasure was threatening to overwhelm his brain but still there was an undercurrent of need. He still needed, wanted, more.   
  
Don smirked at the chain rattling above his head and the small whimpers escaping from Charlie as his fingers splayed out along his ribs and he dipped his tongue into Charlie's bellybutton. He was so beautiful, and Don wanted all of him, wanted to drive him to the edge until he was writhing, quivering, and begging for him, only for him.   
  
He glanced up to see Charlie's eyes locked on him, watching his every move. He smiled and then returned to his work, kissing and licking his way from one hip to the other before moving down to place biting kisses at the crease of his thigh as his fingers played behind Charlie's knees.   
  
At last, Don lifted his head to consider Charlie's cock. He blew cool air across it, enjoying the way Charlie twitched, before swirling his tongue experimentally around just the head.  
  
"Don!" Charlie's voice approached a wail as white hot pleasure temporarily short circuited his brain. Charlie's body arched and writhed and he found himself saying Don's name over and over again, begging, pleading, still wanting _more_.  
  
He pulled ineffectually at his cuffs, wanting to taste Don's skin, wanting to kiss Don again, long and hard.   
  
_There_ it was. That note of desperation that he'd wanted to hear. Humming lightly, Don finally took Charlie deep, swallowing him almost whole. His tongue traced the thick vein along the underside of Charlie's cock as he sucked, the taste of precome rich and bitter at the back of his throat.   
  
"So beautiful," Don murmured as he slid back up Charlie's body, claiming his mouth in a hard kiss. His own erection throbbed and he could feel his control shredding at the edges. He grabbed the lube and condom and slicked his fingers generously before positioning himself between Charlie's knees. Placing Charlie's legs on his shoulders, Don kissed the inside of his thigh as he slid the first finger in. He waited, feeling Charlie adjust to the pressure before working a second finger in next to it. Soon, Charlie was pushing back against his hand eagerly, begging for more with his body. Don smirked, scissoring his fingers quickly before adding a third. He wanted Charlie to be well-prepared. Even through the haze of lust that surrounded him, there was no way Don would ever dream of hurting him. Charlie arched, a ragged moan escaping him. Satisfied, Don withdrew his fingers and rolled the condom on, slicking his cock quickly. Charlie's thighs quivered under his hands as he leaned forward, nudging at his entrance.  
  
Charlie was completely beyond coherency now, beyond thinking, beyond feeling anything but the incredible pleasure Don was creating. He'd never felt this way before, never _felt_ to the exclusion of thinking.   
  
As soon as he felt Don nudging against him he wanted to slide down, wanted Don inside him, _now_. He was dimly aware of his own voice, maybe saying Don's name, maybe saying please, maybe just begging incoherently.   
  
One long, slow, steady thrust and bit by delicious bit Don slid inside, the hot pressure around him stealing his breath. The litany of half-formed words falling from Charlie's lips stopped as he sucked in a sharp breath and released a low, whimpering moan.   
  
"Oh fuck, _Charlie_ ," Don gasped, starting to thrust shallowly. His need burned down his spine and Don had to fight not to grab Charlie's hips and pound into him with abandon. Instead, he worked slowly, methodically, waiting to feel Charlie adjust, feel him open to him as he increased the pace bit by bit, pushing harder and deeper at each stage. At last, Charlie moving with him as much as he could, Don abandoned himself to the waves of pleasure swamping him. He wrapped a hand around Charlie's cock, stroking him hard and fast in time with his thrusts.   
  
Charlie couldn't last very long under the combined assault of Don inside him and his brother's strong hand on his cock. Each wave of pleasure was closer in time to the last, each wave driving him a little bit higher. He was lost in sensation, overwhelmed by it until at last, when he couldn't bear it any longer, he called Don's name and came, the world graying out around him.   
  
His orgasm telegraphed itself directly into Don and he cried out. Slamming into him one last time, he just _held_ , letting the tension in his spine unspool as he pulsed thickly. Don's arms shook, threatened to give way, and he forced them back under control long enough to withdraw gently from Charlie, tie off the condom and dispose of it, and release Charlie from the cuffs. Settling next to him, Don gathered his brother in his arms, rubbing feeling back into his hands and checking quickly for marks. His heart still raced and he took a deep breath to get it under control.   
  
"You okay? Did I hurt you?" he asked.   
  
"I'm fine. Better than fine. Wonderful." He snuggled into Don's heat and didn't bother stifling a yawn. "Is sex always like that?"   
  
Don's eyes went wide as the implication of Charlie's question filtered through his post-orgasmic haze.   
  
"No," he answered softly. "It's only like that when you're with someone you really love and care about." He brushed some curls off of Charlie's forehead. "Otherwise, it can actually be rather... empty."   
  
He should have been horrified to learn that he'd just deflowered his little brother, but some part of him was glad that Charlie would be spared the soul-shattering anonymous encounters that he'd suffered trying to rid himself of this demon. Charlie's body was warm around him and sleep pulled at him.   
  
Charlie nodded and held tightly to Don. He didn't want to think about the knowledge in his brother's voice, didn't want to think of Don having empty sex. Instead he lifted his head long enough to kiss Don's sweaty temple. Don'd never have to go through that again if he didn't want to; Charlie intended to stay with Don for as long as his brother continued to want him.   
  
"Can I stay tonight?"   
  
Don turned his head, kissing Charlie softly.   
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way."   
  
He shifted, maneuvering them both under the covers and gathering Charlie in his arms once again. Don had what he wanted at last, and he had no plans to ever let him go.   
  
"I love you," he said softly. He was fairly certain he'd fall asleep quickly, before he could begin to be plagued by doubt and insecurity. He felt safe in Don's arms, felt like he was finally where he'd always belonged.   
  
"I love you, too," Don replied thickly, already half asleep. "Sleep now, Charlie. I've got you... I've got you." And he drifted off, the weight of Charlie's head comforting against his shoulder.


End file.
